Potter
by therussetfox
Summary: “I don’t want to fight you. I don’t want to fight for people who are so willing to hate me, and as long as you leave me alone, I won’t stand in your way!” Harry doesn't want to fight Voldemort anymore. Neutral!Harry.


Summary: "I don't want to fight you. I don't want to fight for people who are _so _willing to hate me, and as long as you leave me alone, I won't stand in your way!" Harry doesn't want to fight Voldemort anymore. Neutral!Harry.

Characters: Harry P. / Voldemort.

Genre: Angst / General.

Suggested Format: Dark Story Brightness/Contrast, 1/2 Story Width, Verdana Font and Big Font Style.

Reviewers: I'm not making you read this... It's your own choice, so please, if you want to flame me, keep in mind that I am an AMATEUR, hell, I'm not even out of SCHOOL yet. I right for fun, not for money - and please, if you are going to say this is crap, I suggest you go read some Twilight, and you will see the true meaning of the word.

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter settings and characters are the property of J. K. Rowling and her assignees. These stories have been written for the purpose of the education and entertainment of the author and other fans, and no infringements upon the rights of the owners is intended or implied. (feel free to copy this disclaimer by the way, 'cause it's a pretty good one - and not mine either.)

Authors Note: I really need to do oneshots more often... *Author pauses* Oh, hang on, I have a notebook full of them that I have written in class... *groan* I'm gonna have to type that up... Damn it...Damn it. *bangs head against wall*. I hope you like it, and I apologise for any mistakes, I was writing this while trying to avoid the sound of my science teacher's voice. (She sounds like her voice-box is actually recording of nails scraping against a blackboard. *sigh* It's a pity, I like science).

* * *

The graveyard was as cold and depressing as it was when I last saw it. The damage from our previous duel remained, debris strewn across the grass.

"What do you want, Potter?"

I looked up from where I had been staring at the ground. I met the crimson eyes of my one enemy as I gathered the courage to speak.

"This isn't my war," I murmured.

He glared at me for a moment before I felt a stinging pain in my scar. I winced and rubbed it with my left arm, my right preoccupied with gripping my wand, my knuckles white with nerves.

"Not...Your...War? I killed your parents, Potter!" Voldemort sneered, "If there is one thing I hate more than a mud-blood, it's a traitor. You're too pathetic to have come up with this idea yourself... Did Dumbledore want you to spy on me? Let my guard down? It's not going to work, Potter, even I know that you are fanatically loyal to the memory of people you cannot recollect!" He had his own wand out, by then. The yew wood glistened in the moonlight and I wondered if it was stained with blood, after all those murders.

I waited patiently for Voldemort to finish his rant before I spoke. "You're right, I can barely remember them, but you're wrong about my loyalty. Why should I be loyal to people who have done nothing for me except leave me with money I can't use! I'm not sure I would want to anyway, if my father was _anything _like I've heard?" My face twisted as I thought of the betrayal I had felt when I viewed Snape's pensieve.

"They – the order – left me with _Muggles_, did you know that?" I laughed bitterly, remembering the beatings, the _hunger_. "They didn't love me. Of all the people in the world to choose, they chose the magic-hating, abusive and cruel Dursleys. I lived in a Cupboard, for Merlin's sake!" I laughed hysterically.

He just looked at me, evaluating, as if he had never seen me before, and perhaps he hadn't really. I was well aware that most saw me as my father's son, or their 'saviour'.

"Why meet me here, Potter – Why tell me all of this? Surely your blood-traitor friend cares more that _I_ would?" He said, the malice gone from his tone.

"I don't want to fight you. I don't want to fight for people who are _so _willing to hate me, hell, I don't want to _fight_. I don't give a damn if you kill all the Muggles on the planet – what have they ever done for me? – and as long as you leave me alone, I won't stand in your way!" I said, fisting a hand in my hair, speaking with a passion I wasn't aware I possessed.

A moment of silence passed, and neither of us moved.

And then a chuckled, albeit a sinister one, echoed in the night. "Are you really a Gryffindor, Potter?" He asked.

I smiled wryly in response, "Perhaps not, after all, the Hat thought I was a Slytherin." I paused for a moment, "Will you, then? Leave me alone, I mean?"

He eyes took in my appearance, the sunken cheats, the greasy hair and my scar, before his answered.

"As you wish, Harry Potter."

With a last nod, I turned and meandered through the gravestones, but just before I reached the gate, the voice of Tom Riddle ran out into the star-lit night.

"You could always join me!"

I laughed.

"I'll think about it!"

And I walked into the darkness.

* * *

So, Read and Review - But flamers, remember what I said up top about how it's not worth saying some things? I mean it, I don't give a damn.


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